Decisions
by Phoenix13
Summary: The relationship between Optimus Prime and Elita1 during the early years of the war. Edited and resubmitted due to FFN stuffing up chapters and formatting since its original posting in 2002!. Chapter 8 coming soon.
1. Chapter 1

DECISIONS

By Phoenix

COMMENTS:

Thanks go to my friends Charlotte Brogden and V.H.Spah for their help, suggestions and direction with this fanfic. Thanks guys!

Chapter 1

Optimus Prime swept his hand across his optics, trying to stay awake. On the desk before him were numerous reports; energon consumption, casualty lists, recruitment logs. He had to read them all, had to know as much as possible of what was going on. Whether he understood them or not, he had to at least know them.

His thoughts wavered and he sighed. Elita. Whenever he approached the limits of his exhaustion he could not shut her out, she filtered into his consciousness until he was forced to grapple with their currently unstable relationship. He did not want her involved in this civil war, he could not make himself assign her to any task which might involve risking her life at the wrong end of the enemies rifle. Yet she was good...a capable, efficient, warrior. And why shouldn't she be? She was built as one he told himself forcefully.

He leant his forehead in his hands and again tried to read the article on the table, narrowing his optics in earnest concentration. Instead his vision began to dim, his upper torso tilting forward as his body began to inadvertently commence its sleep cycle. Shaking his head from side to side, he stood up and turned his gaze to the chronometer on the wall. 12.14 ; past midnight. Deciding to get some sleep, he exited his office and headed for his private quarters.

Waking just before 6am, he rolled over onto his side, thankful for the quiet night. No messengers banging down the door alerting him to some Decepticon attack or other. In another half hour the night shift would be changing over to the day shift but there was no hurry for him to get up right now. He listened to the far away sounds of the base around him beginning the new day.

A hard knock at the door caused him to turn his face into the pillow and groan quietly. The knock was repeated, this time harder. Already knowing who it would be, he dropped his legs over the side of the recharge bed and stiffly stood up, moving to the door. he thought and touched the control pad on the door frame. The door glided open to reveal a glowering, thin-lipped, arm-crossed Elita-1.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" she ground out, a corner of her mouth twitching to lift up into a snarl.

Optimus glanced swiftly down the hallway at the security guard posted near his door, who was looking interestingly in their direction

"Not here," he said in a forced neutral tone, and pulled her by her folded arms into his room, the door sliding shut.

"How the hell could you assign me to sentry duty, of all things?! Maybe you haven't noticed but I have a rank, a rank you assigned me, and this rank does not.."

"Elita, please," Optimus cut in curtly, but Elita kept going.

"Do you know how I felt?! Standing with a raw recruit, raw recruit, when I'm a Lieutenant?!"

Optimus briefly shut his optics in pain, then realised she had stopped her tirade and opened them again. If she expected him to bark back like he had regretfully done the last couple of times they had talked about this, he wasn't going to. Not today.

They looked at each other for a moment. Optimus struggling to know what to say; Elita feeling some of her anger and frustration drain away as she watched him.

"You know why I assign you to trivial duties," he began, "We've talked about this before."

Elita nodded briefly and unfolded her arms. "Yes. I do. And I believe it will never change as long as we continue in this relationship. It does not stop me from feeling this way, you risk your life for this cause every day, I face every day thinking 'is this it? Is this the day you die?' yet you do not let me help you," She threw up her hands as she felt her anger coming back. "We have to do something about this, it can't go on this way!"

"I know! Don't you think I've thought about it? Maybe if we.." He was interrupted by the frantic beeping of his comlink. Reluctantly, he answered it. "Yes?" he said gruffly, wishing this did not always happen.

Prowl's voice practically leapt out of the comlink, "Sir! We have a breach of security at the east gates! Several Decepticon squadrons are attacking and more are on the way."

"Keep the gate forces where they are and send all available troops in the outside area to harass the invaders from behind, I'm on my way." Optimus turned to Elita, "Look, can we discuss this tonight? In the command centre tower?"

"Fine." She responded, seeing the flash of relief in his optics at her answer as she watched him run out the door. Their relationship was tearing itself apart. This was a truly unique situation that she had never dreamed of happening when they had first become 'involved' as their former selves; Orion Pax and Ariel. Back then they had just been ordinary citizens living very ordinary lives, whatever happened to that? This, she thought bitterly, Megatron, war, destruction. Even if the fighting stopped now, they could never go back. They had new bodies, new abilities... new but not necessarily better. At first they had trouble coming to grips with their remodelled physiques, they had been alien to them, feeling awkward and self conscious; each not knowing if they would still find each other attractive or if they should continue as partners or just friends. But that stage had passed quickly and now they were facing a new problem. Something which they might not be able to resolve. Why could he not see that she cared for his welfare as much as he did for her? Yet she understood his obligations and did not seek to hold him back like he did to her, however much it tore her apart to think of him on the battlefield. Instead, in their private moments she showed him how much she loved him, as he did her.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Elita-1 walked through the blast doors of Iacon's command centre, having thought all day about her and Optimus's conversation that morning. She felt all the male optics in the room follow her as she approached Optimus Prime. She was very aware of all the male attention she received but she never acknowledged it; they could look but never touch; that privilege was reserved for one male only.

Standing silently, she waited for Optimus to finish his discussion with a technician, her mind churning over all the things she was thinking of to say. Optimus finished with the 'tech and turned to face her. He smiled slightly behind his face mask and gestured for them to go upstairs. Elita led the way as they climbed upwards to the small shielded balcony on top of the command centre. She leaned on the railing, looking out at Iacon and it's surrounding suburbs as Optimus stood with his hands clasped behind his back, head facing out to the view but his optics turned towards her.

"Elita, I think we should consider... that maybe,..." Optimus sighed and looked down at his feet, hands twisting behind his back, "I mean..." he stalled again, not wanting to say what he considered to be the inevitable; the break-up of their relationship, the sending of Elita to somewhere; anywhere in the galaxy where she would be safe until he could come for her.

"There is another way," Elita said quietly and turned to face him, pulling at his arms until his hands were in hers. She looked up into his optics, "If I can accept you out there, on the field, you can accept me to."

"No!" he said violently, shaking his head, trying to pull his hands from hers.

Elita held on, "Listen to me! You cannot try to shield me from what is going on, I could just as well be shelled sitting at a desk or standing on a lookout wall as I could leading a Decepticon raid! To me the risk is the same but the benefits are more. This is what I was constructed to do, please, for Primus' sake, let me do it. It would kill me to not be here for you, I will not be sent away or assigned to menial tasks."

She looked at him, optics blazing, daring him to say that what she said was not true.

"Optimus, I love you, as you do me. Don't destroy what we have."

He struggled to respond to her, his mind screaming at him to save her; send her away and hope that they could reconcile later. His heart was saying listen to her, keep her. Groaning, he bowed his head, trying to come to a decision. Nothing he had done before had ever been this hard.

"I...I.. " he started, but was stopped by Elita reaching up and grasping his mask. With a gentle twist it came loose in her hand and she let it fall to the ground as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Embracing him, she stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his, kissing him softly. He responded and held her tightly. At the back of his thoughts he wondered what her reaction would be when he told her of the decision he had just made.

Chapter 2 coming up!


	2. Chapter 2

DECISIONS - Chapter 2

Elita-1 twitched slightly in her sleep and Optimus Prime tightened his arms around her waist. I can't tell her! he thought, staring down at her slumbering physique resting against his own. Why didn't I say it back at the command centre; after this... how can I say it. I couldn't do it before so how can I do it now . On the roof of the command centre they had become engrossed in each other, finally ending up back in his quarters. Their interface had been incredible, almost savage, heightened by the intense emotions from their 'discussion'.

Elita moved once more than switched on her optics, slowly becoming conscious. Optimus envied her, he hadn't slept at all. Her hand slipped up to his bare face and her fingertip ran along his jaw.

"Morning," she whispered, a quiet smile upon her lips.

Optimus forced himself to smile back at her, No, stop it! Tell her now! . Abruptly he sat up and rolled out of the recharge bed.

"Elita, about last night," he started. Primus, that sounded stupid! Mentally he shook his head. "No, I mean what we were discussing. I've made my decision, I'm going to send you away."

Silence. He lifted his gaze from the floor to look at her. Her mouth was open, body frozen in shock, optics wide.

"What...?" she said emptily, one hand clenching into his vacant pillow.

"I can't let you stay here. Nowhere on Cybertron. I'm going to send you to a friend on.."

"NO!" she exploded out of the bed and stood to face him across it. "No! I won't let you do this!"

He moved quickly around the bed to take hold of her and stop her from screaming abuse at him. Normally she was levelheaded and logical, but when it came to their relationship she always surprised him; he was learning about her constantly.

"Now you listen to me for once," he began calmly but forcefully, looking directly down into her optics, "You will not stay here, soon I am launching the first of many major offensives against the Decepticons and I won't have you caught up in it! You are leaving and I am going to offer to the other femmes that they go with you as well."

Elita had such a look of rage on her face that it made Optimus shudder.

"You sexist, chauvinistic, son of a.."

"You're leaving tomorrow morning, take today to finish any outstanding duties or commitments. Elita, if you won't go.."

"Damn right!!!"

He continued, "I will remove you of any rank and entitlements, and confine your movements to within this base only."

Now the look on her face was blank, she had not thought he would go quite that far. Well if he could play dirty so could she. For now I'll go along with him, I will use today to get organised but not for what he thinks I should be doing it for . Keeping her face carefully neutral she said the words Optimus wanted to hear.

"Alright, I'll go. If it means so much to you and is what it takes to keep us together." Liar! she told herself, keep us together? I'm not so sure about that anymore... . Inside she was seething, furious at what he saw fit to do with her life. The look of obvious relief on his face at what he took to be her 'giving in' almost made her reconsider her plans; almost.

Optimus was puzzled; and relieved. She definitely did not want to go, but she had agreed to. She also had definitely been quite 'pissed off', but she had literally in a microsecond become submissive and calm. That was not normal. So, just what was going on? He considered this while watching some of his new recruits at their target practice, standing with his arms crossed in the viewing room above the holosimulator. Below, Ironhide was steadying the targeting aim of a young male, showing him how to sight along the silhouette of the rifle and support it correctly with both hands to shoot straight.

The room was reverberating with the sounds of simulated laser fire, although the shots from the guns were not real they were virtual enough to cause a drone to self destruct when hit. To the left of Ironhide, one of the soldiers had just finished his run, he was watching Ironhide's demonstration and waiting for further target orders. Optimus regarded the soldier with interest, thankful for any distraction from Elita in his thoughts, He has potential that one. Whats his name..? Magnus. Ultra Magnus. He barely needs to be taught anything, everything is perfect the first time and he seems to know how to handle any given situation. He has it all, except confidence in his own abilities. But how is that different from any of us?

The practise session continued on, but Optimus left to attend to other duties. On his way to the flight hanger to check on the progress of his flight officers, he passed the small recreation room of the femmes and could hear a lot of conversation coming from within. He slowed his steps to catch a few bits of gossip. Before he could catch anything of interest, Moonracer excited the room and almost ran into him.

"Oh! Slag...uh, sorry, uh..sir." she managed to get out, while planting one hand against the wall to maintain her balance.

Optimus stepped back to give her space and gestured with one hand for her to continue.

"Its alright Moonracer, I was in your way, not vice-versa."

Moonracer looked hesitant for a moment then simply nodded, gave a small smile and moved on down the corridor. He watched her go.

"Anything the matter, or just the usual?"

Optimus turned to face Chromia, feeling guilt write itself all over his half-hidden face. He knew what she was referring to. Chromia was leaning against the doorway, her hands clasped in front of her, the light from the rec room back lighting her curved form. For some reason Chromia was the only femme who he really counted as a friend, besides Elita. She was always willing to talk and converse with him, he could bring any problem to her and she always knew what to say. Before he could get any words out, Chromia had grasped his arm and was taking him down the corridor.

"C'mon, lets go somewhere away from prying audios' so you can spill it. I've heard Elita's version, now I want to hear yours."

Far from Optimus 'counselling session', Elita was busying herself in her quarters, typing commands into her PC, looking for something which was for the moment eluding her. She was calling up batches of architect plans, scrolling through them then scowling and dumping it when it did not quite match her requirements. At last, she found one which matched her desires and sighed with relief, It isn't perfect, but it'll do. .

"You can change your decision any time you want, y'know. Just open your mouth and take it back."

Chromia watched Optimus listen to her advice, not sure that it was really sinking in. They had found a vacant storeroom to talk in private; he sat upon a packed crate while she perched upon a disused table and swung her legs back and forth.

He stared at the floor, "I can't, won't, let her stay. She is going, that's it."

Chromia clenched her jaw, Primus, he could be such a ...blind moron sometimes.

She directed her optics firmly into his, "Is this a, dare I say it, ' female thing ' ? Because to me it looks damned like it. You're commanding her to leave, but only asking the rest of us if we would like to go too. You do realise that she could side-step your command authority by simply resigning from the army. Then it would come down to what she wanted to do, not you."

Optimus jerked his head up to stare at her, "What?!!" , Resign, he had merely thought of reducing her rank, it had never occurred to him that she could leave altogether. Was that why she had gone all strange? Was she resigning? But to do what?! .

Chromia half smiled, "Mmn, hm. Didn't think of that did you."

"Uh, thanks, I've got to go, ..now," he jumped down off the crate and raced out the door to find Elita. Chromia slowly slid off the table and stood up, wondering whether she had told him too much, feeling squeezed between her two friends conflict.

TBC in Chapter 3 - coming soon.


	3. Chapter 3

DECISIONS By Phoenix Chapter 3

Elita-1 stared thoughtfully at the layout plans for the femmes new secret base. The base wouldn't be quite as technologically advanced as the base here at Iacon, and she and her troops would be doing it tough to get supplies for a while to come. But at least it will be relatively safe, guarded and un-inhabited by male egos, she told herself wryly, with a twinge of sorrow at leaving Prime behind. However, it was only a momentary twinge.

She stood up and glanced around her quarters, noting that there wasn't that much she had to pack for her relocation; A small duffle bag would be able to take it all. All consisted mainly of mementos of her and Optimus' relationship such as; a photocube, a titanium jewellery bracelet, a few book/music discs and other small items. Slowly, she started to place it all into her bag.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Optimus moved swiftly through the command centre, ignoring the optics watching him go past, She can't go! he thought frantically, Damn- >,

"Uh, sir...?"

Optimus clamped his jaw in irritation at the interruption and stopped abruptly, swinging around to face his officer. It was Kup.

Kup looked at Optimus' glaring optics uncertainly for a second then squared his shoulders and launched into what he had to say, "We have the final reports on Sector seven, everything is set to go. All scouts are reporting minimal activity and no sign the Decep's have a clue what we are up to."

Prime opened his mouth to tell Kup that was fine, get on with it so he could sort out Elita; but then he realised he was not keeping his priorities in order. Command comes first, his love life would have to take a raincheck, at least for a couple of minutes.

He relaxed his stance slightly, "Then lets get this operation under way, shall we?" he replied.

Kup nodded his agreement, relieved that his friend and leader hadn't suddenly decided to use his head and assorted body parts for an impromptu hockey match. He knew all about the problems Optimus and Elita were having, so did the rest of the resident base soldiers, and quite a few of the males were hoping this would be their opportunity to score with Elita now that Prime was being pushed aside.

Optimus moved over to one of the vacant computer terminals and entered his personal code to quickly review the overall operation plan. He skimmed over the outline, noting any changes or deletions. Kup stood next to him, adding comments at the appropriate places.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Elita-1 surveyed her new territory, taking in the dirt, grime, and disused equipment. It was, or rather had been, a factory; of what she wasn't quite sure. It had been difficult to access, the underground tunnels leading to it were either blocked off or caved in. She thought it would be a good idea to leave them that way and create a new entrance altogether, something secret and definitely easier for them to use. Dropping her bag at her feet, she warily started to explore her new home.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Optimus knocked again on the door of Elita's quarters, C'mon, c'mon! he thought, rapping again. After a few moments more of silence he used the code she had given him to open the door, thinking she was either there and ignoring him or not there at all; either way, he was going in. The door swoshed open and he entered to find her room empty.

"Damn," he muttered, looking around the room. All of her personal effects were gone, something he had sort of expected but hoped not to see. He walked over to her computer, touching it with his fingers, "Hmm, still warm...she must have been using it." he spoke softly to himself. He hesitated for a second then decided to boot it up and see what was on it, it was an invasion of her privacy but he reasoned that just this once it was warranted; he had to know what she was up to.

Bypassing the basic programs, he went straight to her notebook, knowing how much she liked to record important events in her life just like he did. The computer requested a password. Resting his chin on one hand he thought for a moment, then typed in 'Optimus'.

BEEP - no go.

"Alright, 'Optimus Prime'."

BEEP.

"What? I'm insulted," he said jokingly, "maybe this then...'Orion Pax'."

Suddenly the whole screen lit up and displayed the blueprints for an underground complex, notes were written along the side of it and some of the rooms had been bisected. He studied it curiously, not having a clue what his lover had been looking at such plans for. Scrolling down the page, he saw the names of all Elita's femme troops listed in order; each name had a specific duty or task next to it. As soon as he read the list it all became clear what was going on. Without even switching off the computer, he left the room and headed out at top speed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The sound of a foot crunching dirt caused Elita to spin around, her rifle materialising in her hand ready to shoot.

"OPTIMUS!!" she half screamed, and almost involuntarily pulled the trigger from shock at seeing him there.

"You bet," he growled, standing with his hands on his hips and optics narrowed, "what do you think you're doing?"

Elita recovered her composure quickly and withdrew her gun into subspace, standing tall and lifting her head to meet his visage squarely.

"If you're here you must already know. I'm leaving; building a base of my own, among other things, and resigning from your command."

Optimus felt a sharp pain in his chest, Oh no, "Elita please, don't go-"

She arched one optic, "Oh? Don't go? Before it was 'Elita please go'! You can't make up your mind can you. Well, now I'm making it for you, no, better than that; I'm gone already. This is my home now, from here my femmes and I are going to wage our own war against Megatron without your help or interference."

The pain in Optimus' chest was now a throbbing ache. He felt numb and was unable to think straight, as if he had been dealt a severe blow to the head. This was worse than her staying at Iacon, there at least he could keep an optic on her; here he wouldn't know a thing about what danger she was in or be able to help her. He wanted to drag her back to his base by force but thinking that horrified him, he could never do that to her, she was not a possession to be lugged around at his will.

Leaning against the wall at his back, he sank to the ground; drawing his knees up against his chest to try and dull the pain. He covered his face with his hands in agony.

"Optimus?" Elita knelt down before him and gently placed her hands on his wrists to uncover his face. He shook slightly as he hunched his shoulders around his head to try and avoid her concerned gaze.

"No, please, stop it-" he pleaded, his voice breaking.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and lowered herself to sit beside him. "Shh, its OK." His transition from last nights confident, responsive and knowing lover to this broken, vulnerable state shocked her. For so long she had been thinking of him as something like a god, not able to be so...innocent; or falteringly emotional.

Prime sighed, regained some of his self control and lifted his head, "I'm sorry," he said, voice still trembling.

Elita smiled gently at him, "I understand how you feel, I feel the same way except I have my breakdowns when no one is around to see them."

"Really?" he looked at her in surprise, "why didn't you come to me? I didn't know...I could have given you some support."

"Uh-huh, yep; you mean we could have had them scheduled!" she joked, laughing.

Optimus smiled back at her and she saw it in his optics even though it was hidden behind his mask. She stood up and held out her hand to him, he took it and regained his feet to stand before her. Elita was tall for a female, yet the top of her head barely reached his jawline.

To him, the moment just seemed right. He lifted his hand to the side of her face and caressed her cheek, with the other he removed his mask then pulled her against his chest as he dipped his head and kissed her with all the love he could express. Groaning, she brought both hands up and pressed them to his chest plate, fingers moving smoothly across its width.

This was different from last night, this was simple love not storming passionate lust.

They broke it off and intertwined their arms around each others waist, Elita turning her face into his shoulder.

"This part we never have any problems with." she murmured.

Prime chuckled, "You got that right."

For a few minutes they stood together in silent appreciation, then Elita took it upon herself to speak up about their situation.

"So, ah... how did you find me here?"

Optimus felt his guilt wash over him, Damn, how am I going to explain that I accessed her notebook? Think fast! .

"Never mind that. This won't work, Elita. Think about it. How long before the Decepticons discover your base and its complement of available females? It won't be long at all and I shudder to think what those sick bastards will do to you. To them, this place will be Decepticon nirvana!"

Elita scowled and stepped back from him, "They won't be finding us and if you are insinuating that we cannot protect ourselves because of our gender, that is insulting."

Optimus winced, Opps, backtracking time "I didn't mean that at all, you are perfectly capable of defending yourself; heck, everytime you go out on patrol I feel I should give the enemy some warning at least!" Prime tilted his head at her imploringly, "It is the other femmes who might have trouble, the ones without anything for defence but a rifle - those without fighting skills."

Elita folded her arms, "They will learn; fast. Besides, you know only a few of my femmes are incompetent that way, the other hundred or so are quite deadly, believe me."

Optimus could think of thousands of reasons why Elita's base was not a good idea but he also knew she would either not listen or have an answer for every one of them. Perhaps I could let her run things her way for a short time, and keep some of my troops watching this place for cover. Then when she runs into trouble she might see why it just won't work. .

"Alright, I will not stop you," he paused at her surprised expression, "I won't help you either though. You're on your own."

Elita stiffened, she felt like a child asking a parent for permission to do something.

"I don't want your help, you won't be hearing from us, except of our victories." she replied, glaring at him.

They stared at each other, then with a curt nod, Optimus turned and left. She watched him go, annoyed at his attitude but happy that he would not try and stop her plans. Now all she had to do was get it all together and keep it that way.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	4. Chapter 4

DECISIONS By Phoenix Chapter 4

Cliffjumper shifted uncomfortably in his cramped position. Muttering expletives under his breath, he moved more of his weight onto his left thigh and tried to ease the cramping in his right leg. He was not enjoying himself. Covertly watching the femmes new base was turning out to be one big bore. At first when Optimus Prime had asked him to cover the base and report to him what was going on, Cliffjumper had jumped at the chance to perve on some femmes for a few hours. But now he was rapidly losing his enthusiasm. Absolutely nothing was happening; he was cold, sore and bored stupid.

He could not actually see the base itself because it was underground, he was watching what Optimus thought to be the main entrance - a large crack in a huge unused energon pipe. What Optimus and Cliffjumper didn't know was that Elita had constructed another entrance nowhere near the pipe. She had made a new entrance which came up through the ceiling of the base and was concealed just underneath the surface of the ground. This was the reason Cliffjumper (and the other soldiers Optimus had chosen) could not detect anything.

Cliffjumper sighed and rested his head on one hand; it was going to be a long shift.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sector seven was crawling with Decepticons. Optimus Prime could not believe his optics. He had led a crack team of his best troops into what was turning out to be 'Decepticon Central'! For months his intelligence core had been watching this place, and there had never been more than a few Deceps at any one time. Now it seemed there were hundreds!

Optimus felt like banging his head against the nearest wall in frustration and at the dose of sheer bad luck they were experiencing. Sector seven housed a seemingly unimportant, small Decepticon outpost.

The Autobots had discovered,by accident, that if they could take control of the outpost they could also get a crack at the Decepticons main base at Polyhex via a remote link up.

"No..." Prime groaned, "this can't be happening." Again his optics swept across the near legions of enemy troops occupying Sector seven from his vantage point in a towering building overlooking the base. He had to make a decision. Go ahead anyway or abort. He really only had one option. He turned to Prowl, "Radio Kup, tell him its off. We can't go through with it at our end," he said, clenching his fingers around his laser rifle.

Just as Prowl started his communications, there was a crash behind them. Optimus jerked around, rifle raised.

"Autobots! Drop your weapons! Now!" a high pitched voice screeched. Starscream and a dozen other fully armed Decepticons were blocking the door to the room. Optimus growled and glanced quickly around. There was nowhere to run and they were outnumbered. Caught.

"Do as he says Autobots," Optimus said bitterly. Somehow they had been found out. Guns were dropped to the floor with a clatter.

Starscream smirked gleefully, "Well, well, isn't this cause for celebration. The great Optimus Prime captured at last!"

Optimus glared at him but kept his mouth shut, offering no resistance when Skywarp pulled his hands behind his back and secured them. The rest of Prime's team were similarly bound in short order. They were marched by a gloating Starscream down to the Sector seven base, cheers and shouting arising from the gathered Decepticons as they saw just who had been captured. Optimus hardly heard them, he was desperately thinking about what to do next.

Roughly, he was separated from his team and shoved onto a transport. The ride was short, he was taken to Polyhex and delivered directly into the care of Megatron.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Elita strode around her almost completed base. She was feeling pretty good about herself right now, the base was coming together quickly and efficiently. It was good to be able to run things her way for once without having to think twice about what Optimus would say. She noticed Firestar sitting at a console and staring at it blankly.

"Hey," Elita said and softly touched Firestars shoulder. Firestar jumped and looked around.

"Huh? What? Oh, sorry 'Lita. I was just thinking.."

Elita took a seat next to her. "What about?"

Firestar looked guilty and folded her hands over each other. "Inferno."

Elita sighed, "I'm sorry Firestar, I know me having troubles with Optimus took you and the other femmes away from your partners too."

"Its ok Elita," Firestar said quickly. The femme commander held up her hand to stop her.

"No, it isn't. So from now on I am giving my permission for all of you to visit the guys every now and then. Just don't let them know where the base is, alright? And for Primus sake, don't bring them back here, however much you are tempted." Elita spoke kindly.

Firestar grinned widely, "Thanks! That will be great! I'll go tell the others right now." She took off rapidly to spread the news. Elita watched her go. Well, there is one male who won't be receiving any visits from me. She paused. Not for a while anyway. Her thoughts expressed themselves convincingly in her head, but the ache in her chest said otherwise. She hated to admit it, but she missed having Optimus in her recharge bed at night. She missed the closeness, the warmth, the security - she understood well what her femmes were feeling.

Running footsteps caught her attention and she looked up. "Elita! Optimus has been captured!!" Moonracer panted, sliding to a stop before her commander.

Elita sat dumbly for a second. "What?"

"Optimus! The Decepticons have him!" Moonracer repeated herself, waving her hands frantically.

"No!" Elita shot up out of her chair, "Where, what... but... how do you know?!"

"He was leading a raid on Sector seven and he and his team got caught! The Decepticons knew they were there!"

Now that she understood, Elita wanted to scream and immediately launch an attack on the Decepticons base. Instead she made herself ignore her rampaging emotions and think calmly. She grabbed Moonracers arm and pulled her towards the command room. "C'mon, I need more information, lets find out what is going on...".

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Megatron studied his prisoner with interest. Optimus Prime stood tall, not flinching under Megatrons dagger-like gaze. A small part of him quivered in terror, but he pushed it back and mentally stomped on it.

"This demand is probably futile, knowing the stubbornness of your soldiers, however - tell your army to lay down its weapons and surrender or else you will be exterminated before their very optics," Megatron said in his low, gravelly monotone.

Optimus merely looked at him. "Kill me, if you like, but I will not order them to do any such thing."

"Slag! Without a leader they will fall apart anyway!" Megatron growled, "slaughtering you will be fun. I will of course, offer your pathetic followers a place in my Decepticon ranks before I murder them.

A low place, that is. I'm sure a lot of your cowards will gladly take up my generous offer."

Prime stiffened, keeping his mouth shut. Not rising to the bait.

"Very well," he gestured to the guards, "take him away for interrogation, I'm sure what he has to say will be very interesting, to say the least," Megatron sneered.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Elita-1 despaired. Optimus was inside of Polyhex, she would never be able to get him out of there!

Primus knows what Megatron was doing to him while she stood around trying to think of a way to rescue him. Her clenched fists thumped the computer console in frustration, Think! There has to be something I can do! . Contacting Iacon and the rest of Prime's army was out; she knew her best hope lay with the stealth capabilites of her femmes. But how?

Another punch found his jaw but Optimus hardly felt it. There had been so many of them during his 'interview' that he was getting numb. His head and upper body hung down and his view of the floor was becoming very hazy as his optics struggled to get a clear picture under all the punishment they were receiving. He moved feebly, the arms of Skywarp and Thundercracker holding him upright.

A hand grabbed his head and forced him to look up. Shockwave. "Autobot, are you willing to talk now or should we hand out some more of our hospitality?" he asked. Optimus noted dully that Shockwaves voice was civil, as always. He managed to convince his jaw to work enough to reply.

"Go to hell..." he rasped.

This time Skywarps knee rocketed up into his midsection, followed by Thundercrackers blow to the side of his head. He lapsed into blessed unconciousness.

Shockwave watched Optimus disdainfully. "Pathetic. Lock him up, we'll come back later."

Optimus Prime woke slowly and painfully. Cautiously, he sat upright from where he had been dumped on the floor and leant his back against the wall. He had a pounding headache, his body hurt immensely and his vision was barely operational, - he could not see himself attempting to escape from his waking nightmare any time soon. He would have to rely on the faint hope that his friends would be able to rescue him Yeah, right, he thought despondently, This place is impossible to get into, not to mention the fact that the Decepticons would be guarding me with extreme vigilance. I'm a permanent guest... or a permanent corpse.

He dropped his head back and stared unseeingly at the ceiling, Elita, I'm sorry. I wish I could take back what I said. I hope it doesn't end this way...for all of us. .

TO BE CONTINUED...


	5. Chapter 5

DECISIONS By Fiona Walker Chapter 5

Elita-1 watched the guards outside one of the smaller access gates to Polyhex. She had come to the Decepticon base to rescue her lover; the Autobot commander Optimus Prime. He was being held inside as a prisoner and she was determined to free him.

Stealthily, she moved away from the gate and proceeded down one level of Cybertron to beneath the base. There she searched until she was below what she thought to be the storage rooms for the base and then she cut a hole in the ceiling and pulled herself up into them, disabling and feeding the alarm system back onto itself as she went through. The room was large and full of equipment. She had listened to hear if anyone was here before she broke in and now she prayed that no one would enter. Now what? she thought, I'm in, but where do I go from here? I doubt there is an information board for intruders; I have to find out where the cells are.

The door opening snapped her to attention and she ducked behind a large bin, pressing her self against it. Her energon pump hammered in her chest and she wanted to run, but she willed herself to stay still.

Rumble, one of Soundwaves' cassettes, walked in the door; whistling and porting a crate of genades on one shoulder. With a grunt he placed the crate on the floor and walked out.

Elita relaxed but stayed where she was; someone else could enter just as Rumble had; it was better to stay hidden for the moment while she figured out what to do next. She was beginning to despair that she could pull off this stunt. She turned around and pressed her forehead to what she was leaning against. Right at her optic level were the words 'camouflage paint'; it took her a second for her to register what she was reading. Of course! Why the hell not? with glee she looked inside the bin and found paints of all colours in their tins ready to be applied. Smiling, she reached in to pick one up.

The midnight blue female Decepticon walked cautiously down the corridor, trying not to look directly at any of the other Decepticon troops passing her. A few let off some whistles or made provocative comments but she did not answer them and kept moving. She made certain she did not touch anyone or anything, it was what she feared the most. If only this paint would dry quicker, I would be much happier about this.

Elita-1 had covered herself in the camouflage paint and also found a stack of Decepticon insignias;one of which she had affixed to her chest over her Autobot symbol - disguising herself as a femme Decepticon. She darted looks at signs as she went past them, hoping one of them would be able to tell her the location of the holding cells.

A notice board caught her optic and she scanned it. One notice proclaimed 'All prisoners are not to be relocated from level 2 without the express permission of Megatron'. Elita clenched her hands in hope, Yes! Prisoners are kept on level 2. So what level am I on now? . Looking around she saw that all the doors had numbers starting with 4. This must be level 4 . She entered a lift and tapped the level 2 button. The lift hummed then stopped, the lights saying level 3. Impatiently she waited for the passenger to get in. She received the shock of her life when who else but the Decepticon commander, Megatron, entered and stood beside her.

Elita was immoblised with terror, her mouth open slightly and her optics spread wide. Megatron looked at her and his mouth quirked up in a sly smile.

"I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you before," he rumbled, his optics roving over her curvaceous form. "whats your name?".

"I...I'm..." Elita squeaked, taking a step away from his imposing presence. Megatron broke into a smile. "Never mind, don't be afraid of me - what I'm thinking of would give you nothing but pleasure, I assure you. Drop by my office later and we'll get better aquainted," he purred. At that moment the lift stopped at level 2. Elita saw the indicator light and leapt out of the lift as the doors opened. She could hear Megatron laughing at her antics as the doors hissed shut behind her.

Elita looked around wildly for a moment, thinking she might have been found out. When she realised Megatron was not coming back and nobody was paying any attention to her she sighed with relief then shuddered at the thought that she had come so close to Megatron himself. It was a strangely exciting and terrifying encounter. He was Optimus' counterpart and he reminded her of him quite a bit.

Go to his office to get 'acqainted'? Yeah right! He can get acquainted with my knee in his groin. Bastard. She then shoved all thought of the encounter aside and continued on her determined trek to find Optimus Prime.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The Autobot commander was dozing with his back to the wall when movement at the front of his cell caught his attention. He switched on his optics then opened them wide at what he saw. Oh god... he breathed. Standing looking at him was one of the most beautiful femmes he had ever seen. All thought of his painful and debilitating injuries was forgotten as he swept his optics over her. She looks like Elita... he thought, then he noticed the Decepticon symbol, but this femme is a Decepticon. What?

Does Elita have a sister?? A Decepticon sister? .

Elita realised his confusion and decided to play with him a little. She stood firmly and crossed her arms over her chest, her lips pouting. With an effort, she modified her voice so that it did not sound like normal.

"Hi..." she purred, "whats a handsome guy like you doing in a place like this?"

Prime sat with his mouth open, not responding. Ha! All males are the same, show them a pretty female and they start processing all thoughts between their legs; honestly! Elita told herself, feeling smug at how much trouble Optimus was going to get himself into if he didn't recognise her soon. Placing her hands on her hips, she leant forward.

"I suppose I'd better get you out of there. There isn't much we can do if you are stuck in there and I'm out here; if you know what I mean."

Optimus nodded dumbly. Elita then abruptly changed back to her own voice, knowing he would instantly recognise it. "Well if that's what you are thinking, you can just stay in there!!" she spoke sharply.

Optimus gasped, "What?! Elita?".

Elita snarled, "You bet your cute butt it is! Agreeing with a Decepticon femmes' disgusting suggestion; I'm tempted to let you rust to bits in there!"

"But, but -" Prime choked, and attempted to get to his feet. He let out a groan of agony and slumped back down, clasping his side where a particularly vicious kick of Thundercrackers had landed earlier.

Elita watched him in shock, "You're hurt?" she exclaimed, "what did they do to you?!"

Optimus shook his bowed head, pressing his hand into his side; unable to speak because of the pain. Elita looked around desperately, "I've got to get you out!".

Two guards were posted down the corridor, out of hearing range but definitely in sight range - and they were becoming very interested in what the 'cute' decepticon femme was doing outside of Optimus Prime's cell. The brawnier one of the two started walking down towards her. Elita shot a deploring look at Optimus, "I'll be back for you, just stay quiet!". He nodded and watched her turn and quickly exit the holding cells. The guard halted in front of his cell.

"Hmph; what did she want?" he said gruffly, hefting his blaster into one hand. Optimus said nothing and stared at the floor between his knees. The guard stood there for a moment more then returned to his post.

Optimus was terrified; what was Elita doing inside Polyhex? If her presence was detected... he shuddered to think what Megatron would do to her! But there was nothing he could do, he was the one locked up and incapacitated. He held a faint hope that now Elita had seen him, she would leave Polyhex and go to Iacon for help; but he knew with a strong certainty that she would not do that. She had come here to rescue him and that was what she was going to do. Stubborn to the last electron.

Elita-1 ducked into a vacant room and sealed the door. She leaned her back against it and pressed her hands to her optics, Dammit, don't cry! Are you a woss or a warrior?! Don't think about what they have done to him, think about how to get him free. With one last rub of her optics she straightened up and noticed that her still not quite dry paint job had left a large dark blue mark on the grey door.

Opps , she tried to rub it off with the edge of her hand but only succeeded in making it larger.

Slag! I hope no one sees this in a hurry. She sighed. Enough, now think. How to get him out? .

TO BE CONTINUED... maybe... :) Nah, only joking!


	6. Chapter 6

DECISIONS - Chapter 6 By Phoenix

Elita-1 stayed put in the room she was hiding in. She was desperately trying to think of a way to get Optimus Prime out of his cell, but the tactics of it were eluding her. She had to admit that she needed help - but from whom? The chronograph was running and she was losing the battle for time.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The Decepticon femme, Strafe, rested in her quarters. She couldn't sleep. She knew that Optimus Prime had been captured and was presently residing in the prison cells a few levels below her room. It upset her that he had been captured; a strange reaction for a Decepticon to have, but not so strange when one considered that Strafe had been an Autobot eons ago before she changed ranks and joined the Decepticons for reasons of her own.

The other femmes had taunted and jeered at the stricken Autobot commander in his cell but Strafe could not bring herself to do so. To see him injured and locked up had hurt her. She had turned away; tight-lipped; and returned to her own quarters. It had angered her to feel that way, she had thought her past was behind her; long forgotten in a haze of jealousy, bitterness and crippling sorrow. Apparently not. The old memories had been brought screaming back to reality.

She groaned and rolled over in her recharge bed, hugging her pillow and driving her face into it.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Optimus clamped his jaw tightly, keeping back the groans of agony as he shifted his back against the wall he was leaning on. Every movement was excruciatingly painful. His repair systems were working, but there was little they could do about the painful nature of his wounds without outside help. His 'interrogation' had been very thorough, and he would be feeling the effects of it for a while to come.

He switched off his optic sensors and yet again tried to drift off into recharge. His healing systems would work quicker if he could.

He was almost asleep when the soft movement of air past him indicated someone was standing in front of his cell. Resignedly, he powered up his visuals and blearily stared at his visitor. He stiffened in shock when he saw yet another familiar femme examining him, but this time, it wasn't Elita. It was a femme he recognised. A femme he had thought never to see again. His jaw tried to work, but the femme beat him to it.

"Don't say it. I don't want to know," she said curtly, standing with one hand on a hip and the other hanging by her side. Her expression was bleak – but determined.

"I'm only here for one thing; and we both know what that is," she continued.

Prime looked blank, Huh? . His memory cells kept trying to distort the image in before him.

The femme was (in reality) deep green, with dark crimson highlights. However; his tortured mind was desperately attempting to change that image to that of a femme with a blazing red Autobot symbol on her chest and pastel coloured metal of lilac blue. The two images swam together dizzily.

Strafe stared at him silently, waiting for an answer. Optimus struggled to get his incoherent thoughts on-line. The femme didn't want to hang around. She had made her decision, and was determined to go through with it, whatever the consequences. The guards were beginning to take notice of her, and she couldn't stay.

"I'll drop by later, darling," she leaned forwards and purred, running one finger suggestively down the energon bars, "perhaps then we can discuss more open matters."

She indicated with one crooked finger, the removal of the energon bars. Optimus' optics narrowed as he caught her double meaning. She wanted to free him, without letting the Decepticons know.

He made a split second's choice to trust her.

"She's here," he murmured softly. Strafe's back went rigid, and her footsteps froze. She didn't look at him. Didn't make a sound. Her foot finally jerked forward and completed its stride, dropping to the floor with a thump. She stood still, hands clenching and unclenching, her lips pressed into a hard line. Her head turned swiftly, and her optics met his, their brightness stunning in the semi-darkness.

The two stared at each other, Prime waiting for her to snarl and take off like a scalded robocat – abandoning him - but she didn't. Her face became expressionless, and her shoulders lifted up a little in resignation.

"It doesn't matter," she intoned listlessly, "I'll stay here."

Optimus nodded slightly and turned his head to watch her leave, no matter the pain the movement caused him. He had every reason to believe and understand that the femme was going to help get him out. He trusted her implicitly, as much as he did Elita. And he only hoped her and his mate didn't kill each other on sight……..

Yet again, one of the guards came up to investigate the appearance of yet another femme visitor.

The bruiser lumbered up to his cell and swept his gaze over the injured Autobot.

"By Primus," he muttered, "you've got more females running after you than Megatron has……".

With a somewhat jealous scowl, the guard turned and went back to his post. Optimus raised his optics long sufferingly to the ceiling and sighed, wincing at the pain that shot through his abdomen, Yes, but these femmes are more trouble than you could ever wish for. He wondered if even Megatron would be able to separate the former Autobot femme and Elita if they could not work out their differences - their differences being himself.

Green-eyed monsters indeed. He mused.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Strafe managed to restrain herself until she was within the confining walls of her small quarters. The door shut with a vicious thump, and her energon-curdling scream bounced off the sound proof interior.

"SHE'S here??!!" she hissed, her face screwed up into an impossibly angry snarl, "of all the stupid, no-brained, pathetic……..arghhhhhHHH!!!" Her hand collided forcefully with her desk, leaving a sizeable dent in the pleximetal. Her optics narrowed as she scrutinised the damage to her desk.

"If only that was her 'illustrious' head," she growled.

Visions danced in Strafe's head of finding someway of 'removing' Elita One; her former

commander; from her plans. It wouldn't be too much trouble. After all; Megatron would be pleased as a Sharkticon on happy juice to have Elita – in one piece or several little ones. She much preferred the several little bits idea. And Elita would be enough of a distraction for the Decepticon commander to enable Strafe to let Optimus loose.

However……..

Strafe chewed on her lip thoughtfully. She had no compunction's about killing Elita. Her Autobot tendencies for mercy and 'good' were long gone, if they had ever really existed; which she severely doubted. She was a Decepticon, what she should've been from the beginning; and she knew because of that, Optimus would never accept her as a substitute femme for Elita. It was a painful realisation, but it was one that she had long ago come to accept, even if her heart never would.

"Stupid thing doesn't know whats good for it," she grumbled to herself with a sour smile.

Strafe growled to herself and plopped down in front of her desk.

"Heck with it," she murmured with some venom, "I need her to help me. I can't do this on my own."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Elita stared numbly at the wall across the dimly lit room; sitting with her back to the wall, knees drawn up to her chest, and hands hanging limply across her splayed knees. She was tired beyond reason. Her thoughts were a confusing mess of panic and fear. Panic because she was finding it difficult to figure out a solution to her situation; and fear for Optimus' safety and continued existence. She did not fear for her own life – she considered herself expendable for the Autobot cause.

Her vision began to dim of its own accord. She viciously shook her head to bring it forcibly back up again. It had been days since she had recharged. She didn't have the luxury of recharging right now, her exhaustion was going to have to wait.

Despite her will, her head sank down to her chest and her optics died down.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

In her own quarters, Strafe was having her own dilemma. How to find Elita before anyone else did? And then, how to keep her a secret? In her mind, Elita was a bigger problem then Optimus was. The Autobot commander was a cinch to handle. The femme commander was going to be a nightmare…..

She glanced at her chronometer - two hours until she had to return to her shift. It would have to be long enough. She turned her mind to figuring out just where Elita could be found.

Strafe searched the corridors, a scowl plastered over he face. No other Decepticon bothered to notice her foul demeanour – it was her normal persona. Strafe knew Elita would find it hard to hide amongst this rabble of lecherous scum. The warriors knew not to approach any of the Decep femmes, (under threat of incarnation) unless the femme did the approaching herself, so Elita would be pretty safe from unwanted attention. However, any new femme was studied carefully, so whatever disguise she had, it wouldn't stand up for too long.

After a long frustrating search, Strafe decided to equip herself with some detection gear – namely, a handy light she could use to check out the hidden access ports, ducts and storage areas of the base. She made her way to the nearest storage bay; her posture becoming more stiff as her anger grew. She had better things to do then babysit Elita One and spring free her so-called boyfriend.

Strafe reached the door and slammed her fist into the control panel. With a hideous screech, the panel emitted sparks in protest and the door grudgingly slid open. The overhead lights flashed on and she marched over to the cabinet at the end of the room, and grabbed a small halogen wrist pack. Gripping it in one hand, she turned to go - and stopped short. Her jaw hung open as she stared, then she cursed profusely and threw the wrist pack at the wall. It collided with a thump, and startled the recharging transformer it landed on.

"WHA-?" Elita's head jerked up, her hand automatically reaching for the rifle resting on her thigh. She saw the femme standing before her and could only gape in horror.

"Nice paint job," Strafe snarled, hands on her hips, "I'm sure loverboy would approve."

Elita's hands shook, and then she grew a menacing snarl of her own and surged to her feet, bringing her rifle to bear on her antagonist.

"You…….y-you…..BITCH!" Elita spluttered.

Strafe shrugged, "If you say so. Haven't you gotten over that whole jealously thing yet?"

"NEVER!!!!!!"

"Tut, tut. Y'know, if I wanted to, one call and I could have every male in this hellhole down here to give you the examination of your pitiful, pink, life."

"&$!!!!"

"Hey, I didn't know you knew words like that, 'Lita. Now are you going to put the toy down and listen to me? I'm here to help, not play girly tantrums."

Elita was fuming. She'd never had such a brilliant chance to give in to her desires and kill the femme she hated. Somehow, the word 'help' filtered into her CPU, and she lowered the rifle – a fraction.

"Spill it," she spat.

"Ooo! Kiss and tell! Except, you know who I get to kiss, don't you?"

"SHUT UP!"

"Um……..okay!" Strafe turned to leave, "I'll just send ol' Megsy a little memo about this……"

"GET BACK HERE!"

Strafe turned back and smiled sweetly, "Well make up your mind, why don'tcha. Such as it is."

Elita hissed, her lips locked into a furious snarl. She was breathing hard through her intakes, and her back was hunched up. Strafe cocked her head curiously.

"You should learn to relax," she suggested.

Elita went to lift the rifle again, and Strafe finally backed down.

"Alright, I give in. I want to get Optimus out of here, and we need to work together to do it. Is that simple enough for you to understand, Miss Femme Commander?"

Elita looked shocked – and bewildered. She hesitated, then shook her head and growled, "I don't believe it."

Strafe gave a short barking laugh, "You better! I'm not going through all this just to have you stuff it up."

Elita's expression went grim, "I don't trust you, and Optimus won't either."

"Ha! Too late! He's said he will already."

"WHAT???!!!"

Strafe smirked, "Oh yes, we had quite a little ahem get together at that cosy little cell of his."

Elita's head swam and she began to get shaky at the knees. Strafe noticed.

"You alright? You look a bit done over."

The Femme Commander sank to her knees and groaned, head slumped to her chest. Her numb fingers dropped the rifle. Strafe watched her cautiously.

"Uh oh…….." she muttered.

The disguised autobot femme sighed and looked up, her expression ragged.

"Alright, what do we do?" she asked weakly. Strafe felt the tension in her chest ease somewhat.

The first step had been taken.

TO BE CONTINUED……………………..


	7. Chapter 7

Decisions

Chapter 7

"Alright, the guards have to go. You distract them, get me a damned good rifle and a jet pack, I'll shoot my way through everything and take off with Optimus." Elita One's words were flat. Even speaking to this whore of a femme was more of an effort than her exhausted body could handle. Strafe had just about frog-marched her back to Strafe's own quarters, shoving her in the door and sticking her finger up at Astrotrain who'd seen her pushing the new Decep femme around and had made a very lewd suggestion as to why.

"Oh yes, and what army is going to save you when the entire Decepticon squadron comes spanking fast flying after you? You do remember Autobots can't fly very well, don't you….?" Strafe spoke sweetly, enjoying pulling her former femme commander's plan apart. Elita frowned, head drooping forward. Strafe scowled, suddenly tired of keeping up the goody-goody 'lets work together' facade.

"Go to sleep," she ordered. Elita's optics looked guardedly at her, "No."

"No? You don't have the energy or guile to give even Megatron a supercharge flush right now. And I'm tired of looking at you," Strafe scowled, looking around her quarters, "go recharge in the cleaning unit."

"What?!" Elita's hoarse cry was more of a croak.

"Go on, you'll be safe in there. No one will charge in and find you here, and I'll lock the door so I'll know I'm safe from YOU." The Decep femme sat back on her bed and crossed her arms, optics flickering. "We'll discuss freeing the Autobot head stud when you're more coherent."

Elita pushed the heel of her hands into her forehead, sighed, and decided to fight back tomorrow. Megatron didn't seem to want Optimus dead, so he should be safe while she took some time out. She shuffled over to the cleaning unit and stepped inside, noting the tininess of the room. She wouldn't be able to stretch out but who the hell cared - she'd be safe to sleep. Strafe dropped a blanket on her head and slammed the door.

Elita pulled the blanket up to her shoulders and sat leaning back against the cupboard. She was in recharge soon enough.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"C'mon, move it." Strafe's foot pushed her hard and Elita blinked awake. Morning already? But she'd just gone off-line…

"Lita! Get out, will ya?! I want to shower!" Strafe's edgy words made Elita stumble awkwardly out of the closet on stiff creaking legs. The Decepticon femme watched her aching movements and frowned. Her former femme friend seemed to be in bad condition. Exhaustion would count for some of it, but it was more likely to be living like an outcast on meagre energon and no supplies to keep up with regular maintenance – on top of all the poorly tended to injuries she must be carrying. Strafe realised she'd be doing most of the rescuing of Optimus. She kept strictly to the explanation that it was for his sake only, and not for the Autobot 'agenda'. Or even for Elita's benefit.

Elita sat glumly on the edge of Strafe's bed. She didn't feel at all like she'd just recharged. Strafe came striding out of the cleaning unit moments later, swiping a polishing cloth down her body to remove solvent drops and sheen her metal. The Decepticon femme didn't offer the facilities for Elita to use.

"Right then," Strafe plopped the cloth on her desk and looked expectantly at Elita, "lets get Optimus out of here."

Elita stared listlessly at her. If she'd been back in her own base with her warriors helping with planning and her computer systems to utilise, Elita was sure she could've popped out a plan instantly – but here, exhausted, in the enemy compound; she couldn't grasp any escape concept.

"That mess you've done for a paint job is disgusting. We'll need to change it." Strafe curled a lip as she looked over Elita's scabbing purple paint.

"How do you feel about black?" she asked. "And have you ever felt any religious yearnings? Ever heard of the Telarians?"

Elita scowled back at her.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Optimus sat slumped in his 'cage', knees scrunched up to his flat chest. It was so dark he could barely see the disgusting insectoids dashing along the cell floor for energon scraps. His active energon levels were extremely low; just like his mood. He knew he was getting close to one of two things – being slaughtered or getting rescued. He used to be fairly certain Megatron wouldn't want him dead soon. Its no fun to finally capture your greatest enemy and then snuff him straight away.

His head drooped down and he started to slumber, when his forearm message screen blinked on and tingled as it warmed up. Slowly he tilted his arm inwards to see the tiny screen more clearly, wondering who on Cybertron would be able to get a simple text message through the blocking shields surrounding the Decepticon fortress. His optics narrowed as he struggled to read the small lit words;

- PLAY DEAD -

What? He read it over and over, until a trisec later when the words blinked out and a new phrase replaced it.

- RESCUEBOTS ON THE WAY. SHUTDOWN SYSTEMS TO TERMINAL LOCK -

Terminal lock?! That was crazy! No one ever did that! It wasn't playing dead; it was dead. Stasis lock was dangerous, but reversible. Terminal lock was bye-bye world. No coming out of it. Was this Megatron playing a cruel trick? He watched the screen, seeing the phrase dissipate. No new words replaced them and the screen finally powered down.

His head was so fogged up it was a while before Elita's name popped to the surface, followed by Strafe's. Of course. Either of the femmes could've sent the messages. They had both visited him in their own ways and secretly expressed the idea of helping him out. He was so caught up in himself and his sad situation that he had stopped worrying about Elita being here too.

He tried to think of any reason why Megatron would send him a message. To confuse him? Possibly. But if he did put himself in Terminal Lock, what good would it do Megatron? Perhaps the Decepticon leader was merely trying to inflict some strange sort of 'self-torture' on him. Terminal Lock didn't hurt though. It took a hell of a lot of initiating but it was painless. Emotionally it hurt a lot more knowing it was the end. Death. The mind would never return to consciousness again, and the body would be running on such a minimal energon level the internal systems would be crippled beyond restoration. The body would cease functioning in a few days, then that would REALLY be the end. And there was no way back.

His finger strayed to his tortured side, gently feeling the rivulets of dried energon which had leaked from the vicious wound. His movements were restricted by how much the wound would crack open and bleed when he bent at the waist. It was the worst of his injuries. He was so used to the pain he had to remind himself of how bad it actually was. The wound was sliced through his midsection to his spinal structure and was compounded by the bashing dealt out during his Decepticon 'interview'. It was deep, wide and crumpled.

His fingers froze in their exploration. The Telarian Sect. He'd forgotten about them. The weirdo religious sect which preached death as a true life. They collected dead (or mostly dead) bots. Elita had been particulary scathing towards them, helping to find their members and kick them off Cybertron.

Optimus knew members of the crazy clan were regular visitors to the fortress. They had allied themselves to the Decepticons as a way of picking up new victims. The Telarians had long ago been banned from Cybertron for their crazy beliefs after a rash of murders which the Telarians had called 'spiritual happenings'.

Maybe...maybe Elita had sent that message. If he was truly dead, the Telarians would come for his body. It was the ticket to freedom, if he didn't mind being free AND dead. He wasn't sure if Megatron would stop them removing his body. Probably not.

He made the call. He'd do it. After all, he couldn't free himself and the hope of Autobots on the outside getting in to help him was close enough to zero to not think about it. He opened his hip compartment and retrieved a tiny concealed blue vial which he fitted neatly into one of his injection ports on his wrist. It contained an overdose of anamorphine. Enough to kill. He dedicated himself to spending the next 20 minutes overriding his protective systems which desperately tried to stop him entering the Terminal Stasis. The Matrix also struggled against him briefly, but after what seemed like an annoyed and very disgruntled 'screech' of disappointment, it gave in and went quiet.

Finally it was done. The guards still had not appeared as he lay still and drifted off into the beginning of the Terminal Stasis effects. A small part of his CPU screamed to stop it, but another part was intensely interested in experiencing the strange sensations of 'dying'...

He would not fully die until the last active particles in his energonstream which were drifting under their own momentum, came to a final halt in a day or two (earth time).

His fuel pump slowed and stopped minutes later...

TO BE CONTINUED IN – Decisions 8, "Get your hands off my corpse!"


End file.
